


Cold

by TheShyestIcicle



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Explicit Language, Hurt No Comfort, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Mild Blood, One-Sided Attraction, Probably I guess?, Swearing, although not a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 22:28:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13773909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShyestIcicle/pseuds/TheShyestIcicle
Summary: The Warden takes Jowan's hand.It's cold.





	Cold

**Author's Note:**

> i don't even know
> 
> yes I have more than one Surana
> 
> why do I have so many Suranas
> 
> still salty that I can't romance Jowan without a mod
> 
> Jowan deserved better

Andraste’s fucking _tits_ , but it was freezing! One would think with all the mages living in this stupid tower there would be _someone_ warming it up, but noooo, it was a ‘frivolous’ use of magic.

Frivolous use of magic Lorcan’s ass. Bullshit. Absolute bullshit. They just wanted the mages to suffer because they were ~cursed~ or whatever shit. Whatever. If Lorcan couldn’t use magic to warm himself because of paranoid Templars then he could find other ways to get warm. Like sucking all the heat out of Jowan. Jowan was always so damned warm and Lorcan had no idea how he maintained such a high temperature, but it was a blessing, one that Lorcan intended to use.

That’s what friends are for anyway, yeah? Making sure friends don’t freeze to death.

For once, Lorcan was glad all the apprentices had to sleep in the same dorm, since it meant Jowan was nearby and Lorcan didn’t have to try to convince some Templar that he had totally legitimate reasons for being out of bed at night. ‘Course, freezing to death was legitimate, but Templars were assholes and didn’t care.

It’s true.

Ah, and there he was, the man of the hour, Jowan himself. Lorcan leaned over and poked Jowan on the cheek.

“Jowan. Jowan. Jowan. Jowan!”

Right, right, Jowan was a heavy sleeper. He’d have to try harder.

And so Lorcan climbed right into bed, pulling the covers over himself, and pressing his freezing feet against Jowan’s legs.

Jowan jolted awake. “Nnngg?! Whazzat?”

Lorcan smiled brightly. “Hey.”

Jowan blinked sleepily. “…Lorcan?” He shook his head, waking up a bit more. “What- what are you _doing_?”

“I’m cold,” Lorcan said, plaintively. He pressed his feet against Jowan again, just to help make his point.

Jowan jumped. “Don’t do that!” He moved his legs- nooo, Lorcan’s feet were finally warming up- and propped himself up on his elbow, frowning. “You aren’t- we aren’t supposed to leave our beds after hours! We could get into a lot of trouble!”

“But I’m cooold,” Lorcan whined, wriggling closer to Jowan. “I’m going to dieeee!”

Jowan pressed a hand against his face, groaning. “It’s _always_ cold in the winter, Lorcan.”

“It’s colder this yeeeaaar!” Lorcan shot Jowan his best puppy eyes. “I could freeze to death, Jowan, I could be found in the morning, dead, because I died.” He draped himself dramatically over Jowan. “And that would be terrible!”

Jowan grunted and shoved Lorcan off, which really didn’t take much effort, the elf was so tiny. “I’m cold too, but if we get caught-“

“We won’t.” Lorcan wrapped himself around Jowan, his grip vice like. “C’mon, Jowan. The Templars don’t come in here unless we don’t wake up on time or blow shit up or whatever. And I won’t blow anything up. I promise!” He shivered and pressed his face into Jowan’s chest, trying to soak up _all_ the heat. Jowan, he noticed smugly, wasn’t trying to pry him off. “Please? Just one night? I’m soooo cold. I might actually, literally die. Pleeeasssee?”

Lorcan was pretty sure Jowan was rolling his eyes, but at least he wasn’t shoving Lorcan to the floor. (Anders did that once, when Lorcan had tried to suck out _his_ body heat. Rude, really.) After a few more moments of silence, Jowan sighed and pulled the blankets further up on Lorcan.

“Fine, fine. I’ll never hear the end of it if I don’t.”

Lorcan grinned and snuggled closer. Success.

“Ack, your feet are freezi- are you _purring_?”

“No,” Lorcan said, and his purr grew deeper.

“Since when do you purr?”

“Eh,” Lorcan said, “I dunno. Move over, yeah? I’m gonna fall off the bed.”

Jowan rolled his eyes again (yeah, yeah, Lorcan couldn’t actually see him, but he just knew there was some eye rolling), but scooted over. Lorcan sighed happily and cuddled right up.

Honestly, Jowan was the literal best. A blessing, this man was.

 

…

 

Red, red blood drips from a sword, clutched in shaking hands. It falls, the sound of it striking the floor strangely distant.

Lorcan Surana falls to his knees.

What- what a time for such a memory, y-yeah? He- he’s here and this- this sword, drenched in _blood_ …

Something drips onto Lorcan’s lips.

It tastes like salt.

Memories have a way of surfacing when you least expect it, yeah?

He hears voices, one that might be that dammed Arl, another Alistair-

_That dammed Alistair was so quick to disapprove of freeing Jowan, so quick to judge him for the blood magic-_

Lorcan clenches his hands, his fingernails digging into his palms and drawing blood.

Good. Good. Let him hurt.

He- he doesn’t deserve such a happy memory. Not- n-not when-

Jowan’s body lays upon the ground, blood pooling beneath him, but not from blood magic, no.

Lorcan wishes it was.

Jowan wouldn’t be dead, then.

Better to die than to be Tranquil, Jowan had once said. He didn’t want to lose himself, his emotions, his _humanity_.

The Arl didn’t want to let him go.

He gave Lorcan a choice. Send Jowan back to the Circle… or allow him to be executed.

Lorcan chokes down a sob. Choice?

Cruel. So cruel.

There was no choice.

He had seen it in Jowan’s eyes, let him die with dignity, let him die while he is still himself.

Lorcan’s trembling hands are stained with Jowan’s blood. He wouldn’t allow anyone else near Jowan.

His fault, his fault that Jowan could not be saved. His duty to end it.

He could, at least, save his friend from Tranquility.

Harsh, strangled sobs fill the air.

Lorcan distantly thinks they might be his.

He takes Jowan’s hand.

It’s cold.


End file.
